


The Chef

by Verya



Series: Derek/Stiles AU Scenes [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5716219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verya/pseuds/Verya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-Werewolf AU, takes place in New York.  Laura Hale-Donovan dies in a fire that happened at her family's Californian house over the holiday.  Derek, who arrived late, was only able to save her two young children.  Now he’s the sole guardian of her twins and trying his best to be a single parent while grieving the loss of his family.  Months later everyone is on the way to recovering, and Derek decided he needed to learn to cook, so he joined a cooking class and offered to host.  He hadn’t planned on falling in love with the young, attractive chef teaching the class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chef

**Author's Note:**

> Ok everyone, here's the second work in my Derek/Stiles AU series. I'm hoping to get to something a little closer to prime-universe with my next piece. I just read Derek's bio page and thought it might be fun to set something in New York. That went through my brain and here's what happened. I'm still dying for feedback, this is my first time working in the fandom and I've never actually seen the series. Thank you!

“Girls,” Derek said, “I’ve got a few new people coming over to help me learn how to cook ok? Think you two can be quiet in the playroom, I’ll be right out here if you need me."

 

“Ok Uncle Derek,” Patricia said, taking Josie’s hand and leading her off. “Come on Josie, let’s read The Boxcar Children. Oh, Uncle Derek, what if we get hungry?”

 

“How about I make you guys some peanut butter and jelly bites to tide you over till dinner?” Derek asked, hearing the doorbell ring. “I’ll walk them in once they’re ready. Skedadle you cuties.” The girls smiled and scampered off to the playroom, converted from his home office to accommodate his new family. The doorbell rang again and he opened the door. “Hi, thanks for waiting, I’m Derek.”

 

“Stiles Stilinski,” the man on the other side of the door said. “Nice to meet you, I’m sorry if I’m a little early. I wanted to make sure everything was set up.” He had a small wheeled cart behind him full of supplies and other ingredients they would be using tonight.

 

“No problem, come on in,” Derek said. He couldn’t help but notice that Stiles was only a few years younger than him, but had nice broad shoulders and for a cook was in good shape. “Kitchen is this way.”

 

“Huh, are you sure you don’t cook?” Stiles asked, admiring the kitchen. It honestly looked like it walked out of a kitchen-porn magazine. Huge island, burner and sink built in, tons of storage, four ovens with a second burner set on the main counter with a farm style sink. It was nicer than Stiles’ kitchen at the first few restaurants he worked at.

 

“Well, I got a few things from my sister,” Derek said, “She was the cook, I usually went out to dinner.” He went over to the cabinet and pulled out PBJ ingredients and some bread. “Hope you don’t mind, I have to make a snack for some hungry girls real quick. By the way, you're looking at how well I can cook right here so, there's no where to go but up.”

 

“Uncle Derek,” Josie said quietly, staring up at the strange man from the corner of the counter.

 

“Hey honey,” Derek said, glad Josie appeared to be opening up a little. Two months ago she would not have entered the room if a stranger was in it. “What’s going on?”

 

“I was thirsty,” she said, “Can I have some chocolate milk with my peanut butter?”

 

“Hmm…” Derek said for a moment, scooping her up and sitting her on the counter next to him. “Let me see what I can do ok? The two of you want to put a movie on while you snack instead of read?” Josie looked at Stiles now that she could see over the counter and blushed, ducking her head with a nod. “Someone’s still a little shy, don’t worry. Josie, this is Stiles Stilinski, he’s the one who’s going to help me learn how to cook for growing monsters.” Derek reached over one handed from his sandwich making and tickled her stomach lightly. Josie giggled and smiled at Derek gleefully and he continued.

 

“Well,” Stiles said, gravitating towards the fridge, “With your Uncle’s permission, chocolate milk happens to be my specialty.”

 

“Really?” Josie asked. Derek tried not to fall over, considering Josie just talked to a grown up without running away, he probably would have let Stiles feed both of them pixie sticks. The only adult he had been able to get the girls to interact was their psychiatrist, Dr. Jane Bennett. She was a God-send and had really helped the girls adjust to their new lives while Derek handled his own losses. She also gave a glowing recommendation to the social worker for his visit when the judge had disagreed a bachelor would be the best guardian those first few weeks. Derek was glad to see Josie opening up, he hoped to start the girls in school on time and not speaking would have meant holding both back a year.

 

“Oh yes,” Stiles said, looking for Derek, who nodded mutely as Stiles opened the fridge to pull out ingredients. “There’s a whole class in cooking school on chocolate milk, and I aced it.”

 

“Why would you need a whole class on chocolate milk?” Josie asked.

 

“Well there’s all kinds,” Stiles said, taking the sippy cups from Derek and added chocolate syrup. “There’s the kind without a lot of chocolate, there’s the kinds with loads of chocolate, there’s the kind with cinnamon…”

 

“What’s cinnamon?” Patricia said, walking into the room. “I got lonely in the other room.”

 

“You can wait here while we get your snack ready, then I’ll get a movie on for you,” Derek said, setting the two sandwiches on the plate and cutting them up.

 

“Cinnamon is a kind of spice,” Stiles said, stirring the milk quickly. “I think we’ll save that for when we have time to try new things though. Tonight, I think the classics are the best, not to much chocolate and not to little.” He put the two lids on the sip cups and Josie leaned over the counter to see what Derek was doing.

 

“No crusts,” she ordered.

 

“Crusts are gross,” Patricia agreed.

 

“I cut those off last baby girls,” Derek said, slicing them off. “See, no crusts”

 

“Good,” Stiles said, reaching over and snagging a crust when he saw Derek’s barely concealed eye roll at the picky eaters. “Because crusts are my favorite.” The two girls looked at him as if he was the strangest thing they had ever seen. “They make your hair curl. Now my ladies, I need your honest opinions, be as harsh are you deem necessary.” The two girls accepts the cups and took a few sips, both agreeing it was really good chocolate milk.

 

“Not to fast, you need some to wash down your snack,” Derek said, helping Josie down and walking them over the playroom. “You girls need help with the TV?”

 

“We got it,” Patricia said, as they walked around the corner. “And we don’t mind is Mr. Stiles keeps coming back. He just has to keep making chocolate milk.”

 

“I’m sorry, Patricia can be a bit forward,” Derek laughed, “I hope having them around won’t be much of a problem.”

 

“No, they’re darling,” Stiles said, “Your siblings kids?”

 

“Yeah,” Derek said, pursing his lips, “But, uh, they’re mine now I guess. My sister passed away a few months ago.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, his eyes genuine, “I know how it is to loose a parent. My mom, I was nine and she had cancer.”

 

“I’m sorry too,” Derek said, “I can’t image what they’re going through. Both parents gone, there was a fire…” Derek trailed off and then decided to end the conversation so he would not be a blubbering mess when the other students arrived. “Anyway, I’m shocked at how easily you got Josie to open up, she’s been very closed off since everything happened. You just hit it out of the park.”

 

“She’s an angel, but I think she senses someone else who’s lost something,” Stiles said, helping clean up the crumbs and such from the sandwiches, “That’s the thing about orphans, we can always spot another once we grow up. Either way I’m glad they have you. I got good with kids because of my best friends, they’re all settled and breeding and I’m the favorite babysitter since I'm single. But I get to be the cool uncle so I guess it works.”

 

Derek was standing next to the younger man, suddenly very aware of how close they were and how easy it had been to interact with the girls and cleaning with him. They had not even met thirty minutes ago and there was already something about him that felt comfortable. Maybe it was the eyes that could not make up their mind what color to be. Derek mentally shook himself out of it, he could not hit on his new cooking instructor if he was not even sure the man was gay. “So,” he cleared his throat, “You helped me with peanut butter sandwiches. What can I do to help you get set up for the class?”

 

“We’re starting out with something simple,” Stiles said, “But we’ll need some frying pans and a few other things. If you direct me…”

 

“You got the girls quiet,” Derek said, “I will get everything.” He pulled out random pans, holding them up for approval before setting them out on the island burner. Shortly after the rest of the small group trickled in and they were all cooking tentatively. By the end none of their dishes tasted like the one Stiles made but they were edible. Derek and another woman, Jessica, were both especially proud since both were usually the regents of takeout. He even considered it a bigger success when he recreated the dish an hour later and both girls ate it without complaint.

 

Classes went on like that as summer gave way to fall, and then to winter. The group loved the classes so much they kept renewing the program and Derek was still happy to host. They even did a whole curriculum on freezer-to-table meals for Kelly, a nurse who didn’t always have time for fancy. Derek thought he’d be appreciating those once the girls got old enough to do ninety activities a week. As much as he loved the girls, those few hours when he was with the cooking class were just for him. He finally understood what Laura meant when she and Dylan dropped the girls off for a weekend to spend some alone time. It did not matter that the classes were for the girls’ benefit, so he could be a better caretaker, it was something that he did alone. Sure the girls would be able to help when they were older and he would enjoy teaching them everything he had learned, but for now it was just for him. Dr. Bennett also agreed it was healthy when he asked her the first time he had renewed the class, wanting to make sure the girls knew they were his first priority.

 

The only thing the classes did not help was his staggering attraction to Stiles Stilinski; his young, talented, handsome, witty, good-with-kids instructor. One time he had stayed late to make dinosaur pancakes for Josie since she had a stomach bug picked up from the park. Derek had practically melted into his shoes at the kindness of the gesture. There were the long conversations that happened before the rest of the class got there while he and Stiles were setting up. His mother, Derek’s family, what happened to Derek’s family, Stiles’ early life in California, Derek’s early life in California. The fact they grew up only three towns away from one another. Stiles’ moving to LA to pursue his culinary degree, Derek going to New York for architecture. It had been insanely easy to fall in love with Stiles Stilinski, he was head over heels before he realized it. Though at the end of the day Derek wanted to make sure he was not just seeing someone being nice to his children and latching onto the feeling since it had been so long since anyone noticed him. In the end though, everything came down to a snow storm.

 

A series of knocks sounded at the door and Derek ran to get it, finding a half frozen Stiles on the other side. “Get in here,” Derek ordered, taking the bags out of Stiles’ hands and dropping them on his counter. “Are you ok?”

 

“It is so cold outside I think the food froze,” Stiles said, shivering. Derek went into action, dressing and undressing little girls for the cold meant Stiles’ jacket and other outerwear was no problem. It was not until he was hanging the coat in the closet and had taken his own hoodie off to wrap around Stiles that Derek thought the move might not have been appropriate. Thankfully Stiles didn’t seem to have noticed. “Jessica already called, she can’t make it here because of the snow. When was the last time New York saw a storm like this?”

 

“A few years back, before the girls were born,” Derek said, grabbing another hoodie out of his closet and throwing it on. Also trying not to think about how good Stiles looked wearing his cloths. “But even then I don’t think it was this bad. You need hot chocolate, let’s get you warm.” Stiles let himself be led over to the island and set on one of the barstools, his freezing fingers trying to check his phone.

 

“Jackson and Kelly cancelled to,” Stiles said, “Looks like he has to stay home with the kids and she got called into the hospital to help cover a shift. There’s half the class gone…that’s not real hot chocolate.”

 

“It’s real enough to warm you up,” Derek said, pouring some of his instant hot water over the powder mix. “I’m viably concerned about hypothermia and our resident nurse just cancelled.” He stirred in the mix and set it down. “Can’t forget these though.” He threw in some of the girls’ marshmallows, little circles with pink kitten prints on them. Stiles laughed and wrapped his hands around the mug. “I’m serious though, why didn’t you cancel?”

 

“Didn’t seem like Tuesday without the class anymore,” Stiles shrugged. “And I thought easterners were supposed to be tough, like, didn’t give any cares about a little snowstorm.”

 

“This isn’t a storm, this is a frozen hurricane,” Derek said, pulling the bags up and unpacking them, “Don’t make me unleash Patricia on you.”

 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t tackled me yet,” he said. “Where are the little angels?”

 

“Sleepover,” Derek said, “At a friend’s house from school, figured it was winter break so they could spend more time together. First one too.”

 

“Whoa, all night by themselves at five and a half,” Stiles said. “That’s a big step. How you handling it there?”

 

“I’ve checked my phone every thirty seconds until you showed up,” Derek admitted. “I called when we were on our way, made sure they knew how to call me in case of emergency, called when I got home from dropping them off so they know I’m home. I called when they upgraded the snow storm and talked with Candice, that’s Lucy’s mom, about what to do if we can’t get the girls home tomorrow morning and have at least two contingency plans to get to them if I can’t get my car out of the garage. One involves stealing an industrial snow plow.”

 

“Well, I was stupid and took the subway,” Stiles said, gently sipping the hot chocolate so he didn’t burn his tongue, “Otherwise I would have offered my jeep, it would eat anything up to 3.5 feet. What are you going to do when the girls start dating in ten years?”

 

“I’m suddenly finding myself in favor of homeschooling,” Derek said, “Or a shotgun, I’m thinking both. Maybe I could design them a really cool tower and keep them from noticing boys, please don’t bring that up again I can’t believe I’m already planning their sixth birthday party.”

 

“Ok, growing up daughters off the topics,” Stiles said, pulling his phone out again as it pinged. “And there’s the other two canceling, now I feel like an asshole showing up at your place with a whole bunch of stuff an no class to teach.”

 

“Not an asshole,” Derek said, it felt strange to curse after he’d gotten used to a more G-rated vocabulary with the girls. “You know you’re always welcome, besides, I’ll pack your stuff up if you want to get going again, or you can stay here and warm up for a bit before heading out. Believe it or not I actually have food to cook that doesn’t belong to you.”

 

“I plead the fifth about your fridge when we first met,” Stiles said impishly, giving him a look with just a hint of a smirk. Derek tried really hard not to let that look get seared into the back of his eyelids, but it was already to late. “If you don’t mind me staying a while that would be good, I’d like to feel my toes before I venture back out into the frozen tundra.” Derek laughed and had just started to pull things out of the cabinets when everything went black. “Seriously?” Stiles asked the universe.

 

“Stay still, let me get the emergency candles,” Derek said. He knew the kitchen well enough to navigate it blind, but he didn’t want Stiles to trip and fall. He pulled out the candlesticks and quickly lit one. “Well, there goes the idea of anything oven based. How does canned soup sound?”

 

“My dad had a saying before I was big enough to cook, hot and on a plate,” Stiles said. “Can I help or should I just stay out of the way?”

 

“Just sit there and get warmed up for a moment,” Derek instructed, “I want to put the soup on and call the power company before I get the fireplace up.”

 

“You have a fireplace?” Stiles asked as Derek lit the burners from a match. “How the hell did you find an apartment with a gas stove and a fireplace?”

 

“Well, I uh, own the building,” Derek said lightly, “And since I also designed it, I gave myself a few perks. Ended up having to be on the top floor to get a lot of it past city coding.”

 

“How did the fact that you own the building never come up in our conversations?” Stiles asked.

 

“I thought you guys knew,” Derek said, popping the top on a few cans of creamy tomato soup and pouring them into the pot. “I mean, my family’s company name is right on the front of the building.”

 

“I did not put those two together,” Stiles confessed. “I figured it was a coincidence, but if you designed the place why did you give yourself this kind of kitchen if you didn't cook?”

 

“One sec,” Derek said, leaning into the light next to him so he could see he was on the phone. A quick voice menu and zip code away and he was sighing into his hands. “No quote for repair time, apparently everyone and their uncle is combatting this snow storm.”

 

“Let me check online,” Stiles said, “And don’t think you’re getting out of that question.” Derek nodded and lit a few more candles, carrying one over to the living room so he could start a fire while Stiles scrolled through weather alerts. “Ok, looks like all elevated tracks were shut down, then they closed all the lines with elevated tracks, now they’re down to fewer trains, train operators are getting sent home…and they suspended bus service twenty minutes ago. Fantastic. I am so sorry Derek.”

 

“It’s fine, you can stay here tonight,” Derek said, loading tinder into the logs, “I think we can figure something out.”

 

“So, back to the question of why you have such a nice kitchen,” Stiles said, “You always change the subject but I’m to curious and now we don’t have much else to talk about.”

 

Coming from anyone else the question would have been intrusive, but Derek knew that Stiles genuinely cared. He got the fire started and replaced the grate, he didn’t answer the question till the candle was safe on the counter and he was stirring the soup again. “Well, I didn’t pick the nice kitchen. I designed it for my ex, it was supposed to be a gift for when we moved in together.”

 

“This sounds like it’s about to get depressing,” Stiles said, his eyes softening.

 

“Not really,” Derek continued. “We’d been going out for three years, I thought things were going really well so I figured I’d ask. Talked to a bunch of my friends about their dream kitchen and designed it. He loved to cook you see, not professional or anything, but it was good enough for us.” Derek was intently stirring the soup and not looking at Stiles’ reaction. “Anyway, when we’d previously discussed living together he’d always sounded open to the idea, but when I asked he said that he needed space and space translated to a career opportunity in China that turned into a permanent thing a little about eight months ago. Guess the girls kinda saved me there, I was to busy taking care of them to wallow over the breakup and loosing my family.”

 

Stiles drained his hot chocolate and gingerly picked up one of the emergency candles. “This calls for alcohol, where’s your wine rack?”

 

Derek laughed. “Lower cabinet, left of the dishwasher.” Stiles snarked out a comment on how fancy it was. “Oh, pardon moí, would you have a suggestion on what pairs with canned tomato soup after your pitiful powdered hot chocolate?”

 

“I’m going to make you real hot chocolate later, just for that. Pairing wines is no easy thing my friend,” Stiles said, pulling out a bottle. Derek heard rummaging and then he’d found the bottle opener. He returned to the counter with a bottle of red wine and balked when he saw the label in brighter light. “You don’t have anything more every day do you?”

 

“Uh…that is the every day stuff,” Derek said, “I got my dad’s wine collection in California that he spent the better half of his life collecting. I probably don’t have to buy another bottle of wine for another ten years before I get close to his really good stuff, it’s usually just me drinking it and I haven’t really had anyone to drink it with.”

 

“Not looking the gift horse in the mouth,” Stiles said, turning and fetching two glasses and two bowls before opening up the wine. “Almost done there?”

 

“Yup,” Derek said with a smirk, “Want some goldfish on yours?”

 

“I think I’ll manage,” Stiles laughed with a warm smile. “Where do you want to eat?”

 

“I pulled the coffee table up,” Derek said, “We can sit by the fire and stay warm.” Stiles walked the two glasses of wine and a few candles over before spreading one of the throw blankets down on the floor. As Derek ladled the soup into the bowls and met him there was a steady mantra going on in the back of his brain: not a date, not a date, not a date.

 

“Thank you,” Stiles said, settling himself on the blanket with his back resting on the couch. “I forgot how nice this is. We had a fireplace in the house growing up, always used to light it at Christmas when it was cold enough.”

 

“I love fireplaces,” Derek agreed, tucking into his soup. Their conversation turned from one topic to another, flowing easily as it always had. Except this time it was just the two of them, no other classmates or little girls to distract Derek from his thoughts. The flickering light gave the simple dinner a romantic feel that he hadn’t experienced in longer than he would like to admit. He tried to hide his discomfort when the topics came around to high school and Stiles brought up his first crush.

 

“Yeah, there was this girl in my class, Lydia Martin,” Stiles explained, “I think I fell in love with her during the first grade. Had this whole ten year plan to make her fall in love with me, that failed, rather epically.”

 

“To bad,” Derek said, “What happened?”

 

“Well, she started seeing one of my good friends on the lacrosse team from another year,” Stiles explained, “Then I met his friend Danny, and well, kind of forgot about Lydia there for a while. It was interesting asking him to junior prom through.” Derek was glad he had not taken a sip of wine or he would have choked. “Yeah, bi, not a lot a people call it.”

 

“I, uh, figured it wasn’t any of my business,” Derek said, realizing he had been staring and looking back at the empty bowls on the table. “I should…”

 

Suddenly Stiles shifted quickly as Derek went to stand so they were nose to nose. “Derek Hale, I fell in love with you five minutes after we met but I was sure you were straight, never been so happy to be wrong in my life,” Stiles said, “Now will you kiss me already?” Being lost for words, Derek set both their wine glasses out of the way and pulled Stiles to him. It was not his usual first kiss; even with people he had known for a while there was the usual fumbling and figuring out what the other liked. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the months of unresolved sexual tension he did not believe was mutual, but this seemed like they had kissed a thousand times before. Stiles slipped and ended up tackling Derek to the floor, flailing to try and keep his weight off then stopping when Derek just pulled him closer, shifting under him to get comfortable. “Oh fuck,” Stiles breathed when they finally broke apart. “Better than I dreamed, so much better, so fucking hot.”

 

Derek was also a little out of breath and he felt to big for his rapidly heating skin. “Better than I thought too,” he agreed. “I thought about doing this for so long.”

 

“Mmm,” Stiles hummed, running his lips over Derek’s stubble. “The thing is that I could tell you don’t know how freaking hot you are. Worst was when you’d reach down to grab something, did you purposefully wear tight jeans to challenge my control? I almost popped a boner in class so many times because of that stunt.”

 

“Didn’t know you were looking,” Derek said, “And I don’t want to hear about it. When you’d reach to put something in the upper oven and your shirt rode up.” He ran his fingers under Stiles’ shirt to illustrate the point, which resulted in a full body shiver from Stiles. "Always wanted to do this." Derek changed his grip and braced his thumbs against the dimples at the small of Stiles' back, using the leverage to grind up against him.

 

“Shit Derek,” he groaned, “Fuck, please, if we don’t move to a bed soon I don’t know what I’m going to do. I know we just started this whatever this is but I feel like the last few months we’ve gotten really close and holy shit I’m so fucking hard right now I can’t even think straight but dear god I want this to be special because I think you’re really special and that sounds so cheesy but it’s true and I…”

 

Derek kissed the other man to shut him up, then used the distraction to pull his own shirt off and lean back against the mess of blanket and pillows. He hoped the affect was sexy rather than awkward or stupid looking. “Why do we need a bed?”

 

Stiles stared down at Derek for a second and a half, completely not noticing Derek’s insecurities set in, before he leaned down and pressed his whole body into the half naked one below him. “So fucking hot,” Stiles continued, apparently his brain-mouth filter took a break when he was turned on. “Where the hell did you come from and what did I ever do that I would have a chance with someone so beautiful…” He trailed off as he began to kiss down Derek’s neck, which had always been sensitive and caused him to squirm up against the warm body above him, before continuing down his chest and abs. “Who the hell has abs like this when they work a desk job? I thought you were a model when we first met.”

 

Derek took the opportunity to flip them, careful of the coffee table, and then strip Stiles out of his hoodie and shirt. “I don’t know why, but you talking is really turning me on,” Derek said, pressing his hips against Stiles’ so they could feel each other pressing against their jeans. “So please, continue.” Now it was Derek’s turn to kiss appreciatively down the other man’s chest. He wasn’t as bulked up as Derek, but everything was lean muscle that rippled whenever he hit a sensitive spot. Finally sucking a bruise into Stiles’ hip as the younger man let a litany of praise fall from his lips.

 

“Fuck Derek, you keep that up and I’m not going to last,” Stiles whined, arching his back up.

 

Derek looked up at the firelight dancing off Stiles’ body and felt himself twitch in his pants, precum dribbling out. “I’m not going to last either.” He undid the button on Stiles’ jeans and all but ripped them off with his boxers, then attacking his own with as much ferocity and discarding them somewhere over the couch. “Fuck Stiles, so hot.” He lowers himself over the other man and lines their hips up so they can rut against each other. Stiles shouts his name and wraps his legs around Derek’s hips, urging him on faster and changing the angle to something that made Derek’s eyes cross. “Oh shit!”

 

Stiles cried out and clutched at Derek’s back as his orgasm washed over him, warm cum splattering between them as Derek only sped up this thrusts. Just as another wave crested for Stiles he reached up and mouthed at Derek’s neck, the hint of teeth causing him to tense as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. He collapsed into the cradle of Stiles’ body for a few moments before easing to the side and pressing his lips to Stiles. “Holy shit,” Stiles said, panting. “We are so doing that again. That and more!”

 

“Sure thing,” Derek agreed, “I just have to go die from sex overload for a bit.” He panted out a few more breaths, then felt the horrible insecurity creeping back in. “Did you mean what you said, that you fell in love with me the night we met?”

 

“Yeah,” Stiles said without hesitation, “How could I not? You’re amazing!”

 

“Well, I fell in love with you that first night too,” Derek said, “I also thought you were straight so I didn’t say anything.”

 

“Wait!” Stiles sat up a little so he could look Derek in the eye. “You’re telling me we could have been doing this for months and haven’t been?” Derek laughed, full out laughed at how indignant Stiles looked, as if it was a personal affront they had not been having sex. “I do not consider this funny, I’m quite serious! We could have been having a relationship this entire time and I’ve been missing out.”

 

“Missing out?” Derek asked, “You practically have a key to my place. I’m surprised Josie hasn’t snuck you one somehow. You already know my girls, wrapped them around your fingers the moment you made them chocolate milk, and we’ve had deeper conversations as friends than I have with some of my boyfriends.”

 

“Well, when you put it like that,” Siles said with a pouty lip Derek just wanted to lick, but he was distracted by the hands running over his abs when Stiles leaned over him again. “I guess we have been dating for over six months. I, however, plan to make up for time lost.”

 

“Then we better get this place a little more cleaned up,” Derek said, “Because once we get to the bedroom I don’t think I’m going to be let out of it until two small hyper-active girls show up and force you to let me go.”

 

“They’re the only ones that could,” Stiles said sincerely, helping Derek up and unashamedly leering at his naked body. Derek grabbed his tee shirt and wiped down his stomach before doing the same for Stiles since the younger man still had to wear his cloths the next day. Stiles hummed appreciatively when Derek gave some extra attention to his thighs and penis. “Keep that up we’re not going to make it upstairs.” As hot as Stiles was; Derek was still stopped by putting out the fire, setting the dishes to the sink, collecting the clothes, and blowing out all but two of the candles to take upstairs to the bedrooms.

 

Once they had dropped their cloths in one of the chairs in Derek’s room they slid under the blankets and Stiles wasted no time cuddling up to him. “Hey,” Derek said, “I don’t want to drive you away, but there are a few things we both need to know if we’re going to get serious about this.”

 

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, blissfully pliant.

 

“I’ll start,” Derek said, “I haven’t really figured out how to date and be a full time dad, I’m still figuring out the dad part from the fun uncle part. It’s not something I’d ever really thought about. However, as much as I may love and adore you, those two girls have to be my priority and I can’t bring someone into their lives if it isn’t serious. Seeing me means I can’t put you first all the time, it has to be them. So if this is just a fling or that’s to much to handle, I’m ok with just tonight.” He really was not ok with letting Stiles go, but he could not use his own feelings to trap the man into something Stiles was not really looking for.

 

Stiles looked up at him, his face neutral as he processed what Derek was saying. “Keep going.”

 

“I know seeing someone with kids is complicated,” Derek said, “It’s not even the simple they’re mine and my ex’s. I didn’t tell you earlier, but the girls were home when the fire started and I pulled them out. Patricia was unconscious, but Josie was awake and might remember something, that’s why she’s quieter. There’s going to be a lot of bad days, probably in the immediate future,” Derek continued, “I think Patricia is just starting to realize that her parents aren’t ever coming back. For at least the next thirteen years I have to be a fully-involved parent, and if you’re with me then that means you have to be a parent too. It’s a lot. I, guess that’s it really. Everything else I’m thinking of is just a rehash of that.”

 

“Ok,” Stiles said, “Let me say a few things to put your mind at ease. If you ever don’t put those girls first, I will personally smack you upside the head and now that we’re together I expect you do to the same with me. I am very serious about you and I know that you’re a three for one deal, if I wasn’t ok with that I certainly wouldn’t have let you rip my cloths off or told you how I felt about you. I understand there’s going to be bad days ahead, I’ve had them. There will be nightmares when they don’t want to see anyone but their mom or dad and we’re all they’re going to have, praying we’re enough. Here’s what I’ve realized over the past eight months and its’ really the crazy part, I want that with you. I want slow and lazy nights in bed while the girls are at a sleep over. I want nasty, loud quickies before they get home from school. I want to teach them how to cook and see what they make for their eighth grade science fair. I want to teach them how to drive a stick on the jeep and I want to see them grow up, and I want to do all of that with you. I want to come home after a day of teaching and collapse onto the couch with you for a football game. I want to see how you're going to look in ten years and I want to talk about what you're drafting over dinner. I want the stupid arguments we’re going to have and the hotter make up sex. I want to go on trips with you when the girls are older and on their own where we celebrate the lives we’ve made together. That serious enough for you?”

 

Derek answered with a scorching hot kiss and a whisper. “I love you.”

 

They stayed in bed the rest of the night, only going to sleep in the early hours of the morning and being woken up by Derek’s cell phone. The roads had been cleared and the girls were on their way home. Candice smiled when she dropped them off and asked if his sleepover had been fun, thankfully Patricia and Josie were to busy demanding chocolate chip pancakes to notice Derek turn magenta. She wished him well and he thanked her again for dropping the girls off, then it seemed so natural to see Stiles whipping up pancakes while the girls jumped around in their snow gear. He smiled at Stiles and started to get the girls’ coats off, the apartment finally feeling like a home.

 

 

* * *

 

Epilogue: Thanks for the Kitchen.

It had started out a normal day for everyone; girls to and from school, homework time, play time, then Stiles was home and they started dinner. The doorbell rang. “I got it,” Derek said, pressing a kiss to his fiancé’s lips as he chopped basil. They were making tomato soup, scratch this time, to celebrate the one year mark from the day they met and one week from the day Stiles moved in with them. He opened the door up and felt his jaw drop, Joshua was on the other side. “Joshua, what are you doing here? I thought you were in China?”

  
“I’m, uh, I’m back,” Joshua said, holing a bottle of wine in one hand. “God, I thought this whole thing out in my head on my way over here but, uh, now it’s gone. You look really good Derek.”

 

“Thank you,” Derek said, careful to keep his voice low and neutral. “You look well too. Sorry if this seems standoffish but I haven’t heard from you since you moved, what are you doing…”

 

“I made a mistake leaving Derek,” Josh interjected, “It was a really big mistake and I regretted it so much, but I talked myself into it and then it had been three months and I figured you moved on. That’s what I kept telling myself but then, when an opportunity came to come back to New York I thought…maybe if I just threw myself out there we could at least talk. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but…”

 

“Dad,” Patricia asked, running over to him and pulling at his pants leg. “Dad, can I try some of the cake?”

 

Joshua looked like a sneeze could knock him over. “Dad?” He choked out.

 

“Yeah,” Derek said, lifting Patricia into his arms, “I’m dad. And no, you cannot try some of the cake, you got to 'help' with the icing and we can’t spoil your dinner. You love tomato soup.”

 

“Who’s this?” Patricia asked, her eyes narrowing as they did whenever anyone besides Stiles or one of her friend’s parents was around Derek.

 

“Patricia, this is Joshua,” Derek said, “He’s someone I used to spend a lot of time with. What do we say to new people?”

 

She squirmed to be let down and offered a tiny hand. “Hello Joshua, I’m Patricia, nice to meet you.” Joshua nodded mutely and Patricia turned back to Derek. “Can I have some grape juice with dinner?”

 

“Sure, thing baby,” Derek said, patting her on the back when she scampered off towards the kitchen. He believed her for about half a second, knowing Stiles would be informed of his ex’s arrival in moments. “A lot of things have changed since you needed space.”

 

“I didn’t think you’d have a kid,” Joshua said, biting his lip like he always did when he was keeping his thoughts to himself and breathing deeply like when he was trying not say something sharp.

 

“She’s Laura’s,” Derek explained, he was not sure why. Maybe so Joshua would see there was no going back after everything that had happened the past two years. “Her and Dylan passed away last year.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Joshua said, all harshness going out of his frame.

 

“Mom and dad too, and Cora,” Derek said bitterly, “Guess it’s a good thing you never got around to meeting my family.”

 

“Jesus Derek,” Joshua replied, “I didn’t know, I was half way around the world. This is not how I saw this going.”

 

“You took a job, half way around the world, all on your own,” Derek said, his voice surprisingly calm. “Then you’re surprised my life continued is that it? How did you see this going Joshua?”

 

“Hey,” Stiles said, walking up behind Derek while drying his hands so their matching engagement bands flashed. “Josie’s asking for you.”

 

“Ok,” Derek said, taking a breath. “It was good to see you Josh.”

 

“Babe,” Stiles said, taking Derek’s place at the door and looking over his shoulder. “Keep an eye on the parmesan crisp, it’s out in ninety seconds.” He waited till Derek was securely in the kitchen with two little girls voices before he turned back to the solidly built man that, he was grateful to say, he held little resemblance to. “You must be Joshua, I’m Stiles. Nice to meet you.”

 

“Hello,” Joshua said, taking Stiles’ outstretched hand just a little harder then he needed to. “Sorry if I’m interrupting.”

 

“Our anniversary,” Stiles explained, unable to keep the punch-drunk smile off his face.

 

“Didn’t think Derek was that much of a slut,” Joshua fumed, his anger back, “You two start screwing when we were still together?”

 

“No we met one year ago,” Stiles said, he had planned on being cordial but now he decided to (metaphorically) take the bastard out, “By the way, I have to thank you for the kitchen.”

 

“Excuse me?” Joshua asked.

 

“The kitchen, it’s beautiful,” Stiles said, “Derek designed it for when you moved in together but I have to say I’m very happy ending up with it.” Stiles gave the smirk that looked like a cat eyeing a canary. “And fucking him open on that island man, it’s glorious. I never bought the fact that married sex was better until I experienced it. Anyway, this place is better then some of the restaurants I’ve worked at so, thank you for deciding to leave him. I’m fine with the fact that you got three years of his past because I get to share all the years he has left with him. Guess fate’s funny that way. It was nice to meet you.” Stiles closed the door and went back to see Derek pulling the crisp out of the oven to cool.

 

“Do I even want to know?” Derek asked, seeing the satisfied smirk on Stiles’ face.

 

“I just thanked him for the kitchen,” Stiles said innocently, slipping his hand into Derek’s back pocket and giving his ass a squeeze.

 

Derek gave a quick check to make sure the girls were occupied and turned quickly to cup the front of Stiles’ jeans. “I heard what you said.  You’re paying for that later,” Derek promised, “In all the best ways, it’s my turn to fuck you open in the kitchen.” He gave the other man a gentle squeeze and a pat, Stiles’ choked to cover a moan and Derek turned to break up the parmesan into chunks for the soup.

 

“Evil,” Stiles whispered in Derek’s ear, crowding up behind him, the older man had the cheek to press his hips back and give a little swivel that made Stiles kiss Derek’s neck.

 

“Ewwww, dad,” Josie groaned, seeing her dads kiss, “That’s gross.” Stiles jerked away like he’d been burned and blushed. Derek burst out laughing and finished plating the crisp cheese.

 

“Hands washed everyone?” Derek asked, the two girls clambered up to the kitchen table and they set the little soup bowls in front of them. A quick grace later and the little family was digging into their soup.

 

Stiles could not help but think back on the past year; those first six months he and Derek danced around each other, the last six when they drove in to explore each other. The last week when he’d moved in, with the girls’ blessing (demand), and then been surprised with matching plain engagement bands. There had been bad days, there had been really bad days, and then days like this one where it seemed the world could not touch their happiness. Stiles met Derek’s eyes with a smile and then helped Josie make her goldfish swim around the tomato soup. He would not have traded this for anything.

 


End file.
